


Mistaken For A Vision

by flickism



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-20
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 06:47:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1090866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flickism/pseuds/flickism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Faberry Week: caught.</p><p>Rachel catches Kurt doing something she could never have expected. Could it be the catalyst for something between Rachel and Quinn?</p><p>Endless thanks to <a href="http://faberryprompts.tumblr.com">faberryprompts</a> for the idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_It could probably be traced back to the red carpet of Quinn Fabray's very first movie role._

_It was a small role, with less than a dozen lines of dialogue, but it had a few big names in it and she was invited to walk the carpet when it premiered at Tribeca._

_So maybe it was her connections from Jodie Foster's Clambake who were to blame…or thank._

_Or maybe it was her ex-boyfriend, Steven, who cancelled on her at the last minute._

_Or maybe it was inevitable._

* * *

Quinn had been sharing an apartment in Manhattan with Rachel and Kurt since graduating from Yale. It wasn't always smooth sailing, and she had to put up with her fair share of diva tantrums, but they also put up with her and at least Kurt helped keep the apartment clean.

That's what Kurt was doing that Saturday, cleaning the kitchen, while Rachel and Quinn bought groceries. Or at least that's what he was supposed to be doing. When he heard the keys in the door he slammed his laptop shut and flew off the couch, rushing to the kitchen to pick up some dirty mugs.

"I'm telling you, Quinn. It's eleven years, not twelve," he heard Rachel insist as the door swung open.

"No it's not," Quinn's tone was matter-of-fact but playful. "In fact, I'm willing to bet you dinner that I'm right."

"Hello Kurt," Rachel addressed him as they entered the kitchen with several bags, overstuffed with food.

He looked up and caught Quinn's eyebrow raised at the lack of progress he'd made in cleaning. He quickly turned away and back to the task at hand.

"Ladies," he greeted them. "What's the bone of contention today?"

He heard Rachel huff but he refused to turn around, afraid of the silent wrath Quinn Fabray might unleash with only her gaze.

"Oh, it's just Quinn trying to pretend she knows more about Broadway than I do," she tossed over her shoulder as she walked towards the living room.

"She's about to be proved wrong," Rachel said as she sat down on the couch and reached for Kurt's laptop. "I'm just going to use your laptop, Kurt."

"Wait Rachel, no!" he called loudly, stumbling over a grocery bag in his haste, but it was too late.

She was looking at the screen with a frown and his stomach lurched.

He debated making a run for the front door but his feet were rooted to the spot.

"QUINN," Rachel shrieked just then.

"Rachel," he started but she made no move to acknowledge him, continuing to scan the screen with wide eyes.

"So are you ready to concede?" Quinn asked as she entered the room, trailing off as she looked between Kurt who was still frozen in horror and Rachel, who ignored her.

Suddenly, without a word, Rachel stood up and handed the computer to Quinn.

Quinn looked at her questioningly before gazing down at the words on the screen. She scanned the page quickly and her cheeks reddened.

She closed it, returned it to the table, and looked back at Rachel. It felt as though she was watching the countdown to an explosion, but it never arrived.

"Kurt, what is that?" Rachel asked in an eerily calm voice.

He swallowed before responding.

"Well, it's called RPF," he began. "Real Person Fiction and it's, uh, well it's about the two of you."

When he received no response, he took it as his cue to continue.

"I found it about six months ago and–"

"Six MONTHS ago?" Rachel roared, finally breaking the peace. "Why didn't you tell us about it? I could have gotten my publicist to take it down, or…or I don't know, done something. How could someone write a story like this about us?" she motioned between herself and Quinn, who still had not uttered a word.

"Honey," he started calmly. "It's not just one story. There are over three hundred stories."

"Three hundred?" Rachel whispered, with a tinge of awe. "But…"

He motioned for them to sit, but neither woman moved so he stayed standing and continued.

"From what I can tell, it's been going on for almost two years. Ever since the ' _Flowers for Sarah_ ' premiere.

"Some of them are sure you're a couple, others aren't convinced, but everyone WANTS you to be a couple," he finished.

"Me and…Quinn," Rachel shook her head incredulously.

"Yes Rachel. You and Quinn," he chanced another look over at Quinn, whose features were perfectly schooled into a mask of nonchalance.

"But why would you read them?" Rachel questioned.

"Well I don't read the smutty ones," he responded.

"There are SMUTTY ONES," Rachel exploded, rubbing her temples.

Quinn slipped quietly from the room at that moment, closing her bedroom door behind her.

* * *

Several hours later there was a knock at Quinn's door, and a head of long brown hair poked inside.

"I brought you some food," Rachel said quietly as she waited for a sign that she could come in. Normally they went in and out of each others' rooms with ease, but this time it seemed right to wait.

"Thanks Rachel," Quinn said, sitting up and smiling as Rachel made her way over, passed Quinn the plate and settled onto the other side of the bed.

"Are you alright, Quinn? You haven't said anything."

"I'm fine," Quinn replied, reaching out to give Rachel's hand a reassuring squeeze. "How are you?"

"Well it's been quite the evening. You wouldn't believe the things that Kurt showed me," she paused momentarily.

"I admit it's slightly overwhelming that they are so invested in whether or not we are romantically involved, but they love it, they love us."

She was pretty sure that wasn't going to be the argument that convinced Quinn, fiercely private as she was, but Rachel couldn't ignore that small part of her that had always kind of, but not really, but sort of thought having a stalker was truly 'making it'.

"They look at photos of us at events, for instance at the press event when they announced the cast for the Aladdin national tour, and they analyze the way we look at each other and how many times we touch or hold hands.

"And they were keeping track of how many times you came to see the show when we were touring. I don't even know how they would know that but they do.

"Like Kurt mentioned, there's a video of our interview at your premiere, and they go gaga over it, convinced that we're staring at each other, completely besotted."

If Quinn knew what Rachel was talking about, she didn't let on. She just continued to eat the sandwich Rachel brought and listened.

"And then, and this is what you saw, they write stories that fill in the blanks between all these moments. Or they take us and put us in another situation entirely, like meeting for the first time on the set of a film or giving us completely different jobs and history.

"I still haven't gotten to the bottom of why Kurt is reading it and why he didn't tell us about it, but I will," she finished with a nod just as Quinn took her last bite and placed the plate on the nightstand.

They leaned back against the headboard, Rachel's arm falling naturally between their bodies, while Quinn consciously kept her hands to herself.

Her relationship with Rachel wasn't something she spent a lot of time thinking about. It just was. They were close, like lots of close girlfriends, and of course that translated to holding hands or lying in bed talking until all hours of the morning.

But skimming that page of text, which described some overly saccharine, grand romantic declaration of love from the top of the Empire State Building, awoke something inside her. Sure, the story was tacky and Quinn didn't think she'd ever actually be okay with such a public and predictable display of emotion, but it suddenly had her questioning herself.

She'd been in the same spot, staring up at the ceiling for hours, contemplating the question over and over.

_'Do I have feelings for Rachel?'_

Ever since Rachel stepped in for Steven the first time, there was never any doubt that Rachel would be her date to any premieres, parties or other industry events that followed. She used to tell herself it was because Rachel was so good at networking, and that it was good for them to be seen at each others' events.

But the longer she thought about it, the harder it was to ignore the funny flip her stomach would do whenever Rachel emerged from her bedroom dressed in a form-fitting dress with her hair swept to one side.

She couldn't help but remember the tingling in her palm whenever Rachel held her hand on red carpets, or played with her fingers while they lay in bed talking.

There was no avoiding the fact that looking Rachel in the eye caused her breath to catch, or that being around her made Quinn happy in a way she didn't think she ever had been.

She knew Rachel would be getting anxious about her silence.

Rolling her head to the side, she took in Rachel's profile for a few seconds, before Rachel turned to meet her gaze.

"I think I need to tell you something…"

* * *

_To be continued  
_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Rachel's discovery affects Quinn and Rachel in different ways. Continued thanks to [faberryprompts](http://faberryprompts.tumblr.com/) for the original idea.

Rolling her head to the side, she took in Rachel's profile for a few seconds, before Rachel turned to meet her gaze.

"I think I need to tell you something…"

Quinn swallowed.

Rachel's eyebrows rose questioningly.

"That sandwich was terrible," she finished lamely.

"What?" Rachel shrieked, swatting at Quinn's arm.

Quinn went with it, laughing until Rachel dropped the indignation and laughed too.

"Seriously though Quinn, I know it was a lot to hear. Are you okay?" Rachel looked over at Quinn, whose gaze was fixed to the ceiling.

"Seriously Rachel, yes. I mean it's not like there is any truth to it."

"Of course there's not," Rachel hesitated, frowning. "I was just checking."

A not quite comfortable silence settled over them and they stayed not quite touching until Rachel grew agitated.

"Let's watch a movie," she said, jumping off the bed and walking over to Quinn's stack of DVDs. "Any preference?"

"Whatever you want," Quinn replied, smiling to herself as her best friend tried to smooth things out the best way she knew how - by acting overly normal.

Rachel slid back onto the bed with the remote, squinting as she pointed it at the television and tried to skip the annoying previews.

Quinn's heart beat erratically as she watched Rachel's adorable expression. Her hand twitched, aching to reach out and touch the side of that perfect face, to push a strand of dark hair behind her ear, or trace a finger along her jaw.

"What," Rachel asked, glancing at Quinn with a self-conscious expression.

"Just wondering what you chose to put on," Quinn covered smoothly.

"A classic, of course. You can't beat Emma Stone, even if she does end up with that asshole."

"Penn is a nice guy," Quinn defends.

"So you keep saying, but remember that after-party?"

"I'm still not sure that cocktail waitress appreciated your interference."

"Whatever Quinn, but I better never find out that he did anything like that to you on set."

"You won't, because he didn't but either way I would have handled it."

"Fine," Rachel huffed. Pressing play, she dumped the remote on the bed and lay back only inches away from Quinn.

They were still not quite touching, but they were relaxed and inching closer towards normal. Whatever normal was turning out to be.

* * *

It was almost midday by the time Rachel awoke to the sound of Kurt's very loud singing. She blinked, registering the fact that she was latched onto a pillow that smelled like her blonde best friend, and that said best friend was nowhere to be found.

Padding downstairs and into the kitchen, she saw Kurt spinning around elegantly while putting away the dishes like some kind of kitchen choreography.

"Good morning," she said.

"Oh Rachel," he exclaimed, pressing his hands dramatically to his chest. "You scared me, I thought I was home alone. Quinn left about an hour ago and your bedroom was empty."

"Yeah I slept with Quinn," she replied.

Kurt's raised eyebrows asked the question he didn't voice out loud.

"Nothing like that, Kurt. Obviously those _stories_ have gone to your head. We talked then watched a movie, and I must have fallen asleep."

"I didn't say a word, but since you brought it up, how was Miss Fabray about," he paused and waved his hand, "all that?"

Rachel sighed.

"She seemed fine, but you know what she's like," Rachel said and Kurt nodded. "It's a bit awkward but we'll get through it. Like she said last night, it's not like there's any truth to it."

Kurt attempted to cover his scoff by clearing his throat, and hurriedly asked Rachel about her plans for the day.

"Stacey emailed me some dress options for the benefit next week, and I need to figure out which ones I like. I think Quinn's wearing green so I'll have to make sure we don't clash."

"Ooh let me know if you need a second opinion. Once I'm done with this I'll be upstairs trying to finish an article for work."

"Will do. Good luck," she said as she grabbed her iPad and settled into the couch.

Scanning through her unread messages, Rachel found one from Stacey with twelve photos attached and flicked through them. She earmarked two or three as possibilities but none of them really grabbed her.

Perhaps it was her experience with fashion - or lack thereof - in high school, but since her star began to rise she's been so conscious of making good choices. One of her worst fears was ending up on anyone's worst dressed list, so she hired the best stylist she could afford at this early stage of her career and always chose the conservative option.

Rachel pulled a face and sighed. She didn't always want to play it safe, but she didn't trust herself not to choose something that would see her ridiculed.

She hadn't told Quinn, and probably wouldn't, that she was so insecure about her wardrobe choices, because a lot of that insecurity could be traced back to their interactions in high school.

She decided to look back over her previous dresses for inspiration.

Pulling up a browser, she typed in her name with the term 'red carpet' and the screen filled with pictures. She smiled when she saw the first picture was her red dress from last year's Helen Hayes awards. The Aladdin cast had been nominated for Visiting Production, and they walked the carpet together.

She let her mind drift back to the moment. Quinn had been standing off to the side while they snapped a cast picture, which is where Rachel had been looking as this photo was taken.

She remembered the tingles she had felt when their eyes met, which was obviously because of how excited she was to be there. She remembered the look of intense pride on Quinn's face, and how her hazel eyes had danced as they looked at each other.

Shaking herself from that thought, Rachel scrolled through some more photos.

The next photo was from their very first carpet, the Flowers for Sarah premiere.

Rachel almost gasped at how young they looked, even though it was only three years earlier. She noticed how happy they both looked, like wide-eyed children experiencing the world for the first time, which was kind of true.

She couldn't tear her eyes away. Enlarging the photo, she saw the source was a tumblr called _faberryforevr_. Intrigued, she clicked through and was taken aback. A header proclaimed she and Quinn were meant to be, a gif rotated pictures of the two of them, menu items included 'Flowers for Sarah', 'Aladdin tour photos', and 'Fic Recs'.

Time disappeared as Rachel clicked through the site, examining the 'evidence' that had been collected in the case against their heterosexuality. Eventually she stumbled across the video from the Flowers For Sarah premiere.

Hesitantly she clicked play, not realizing she was holding her breath.

It started with the interviewer asking Quinn if this was her first red carpet and if she was excited. She saw rather than remembered herself squeeze Quinn's hand reassuringly and Quinn shoot her a grateful look.

She saw herself watching Quinn with that mix of pride and reverence.

She heard Quinn tell the interviewer that she had brought her friend Rachel - who would be a big Broadway star one day - and the interviewer had fumbled a moment before shooting a polite question Rachel's way.

She watched Quinn watching her answer the question. She saw the intensity of her gaze, the look of…she didn't know what.

She watched as she finished answering the question and looked over at Quinn.

She watched as a second or more ticked by of them gazing at each other as if they were the only ones in the world, while the interviewer tried to get Quinn's attention to ask another question.

She watched it all, and then she watched it again.

When it ended she sat, unable to move or process what was going on inside her head.

The sound of their front door broke her from her thoughts. She looked up to see Quinn hanging up her coat.

It was as if she was watching everything happen in slow motion. Quinn slipped off her shoes and turned to walk into the lounge.

She watched Quinn run her hands through her hair.

She saw Quinn's eyes, shining slightly as they darted around.

She took in Quinn's long neck, and her collarbones peeking out from the low v in her white shirt.

Rachel felt like she was seeing Quinn, truly seeing her, for the very first time.

Then she saw herself reach up and grab Quinn's hand, pulling her down to the couch.

A shiver ran down her spine as she imagined kissing that spot, and hearing Quinn breathe her name against her ear.

' _Rachel_ '

' _Rachel_ '

"Rachel!"

Rachel's eyes snapped up to meet Quinn's worried gaze.

"Huh? Um sorry," she stammered.

"You were a million miles away. Are you okay?"

Rachel took a brief moment to realize that no, she wasn't okay, but she couldn't let Quinn know that.

"Yes I'm fine, where have you been?"

"I had brunch with Paul. We talked about," she hesitated, "that whole internet thing and the benefit."

"Oh speaking of the benefit," Rachel exclaimed, coming back to life. "Stacey sent me dress options. Do you want to see?"

A pained look crossed Quinn's face.

"Actually, Paul and I agreed that I should take someone else to the benefit," Quinn said quietly. "He's setting me up with one of his other clients, Liam something or other."

Rachel's breath left her.

"Oh. Right yeah, of course. That makes sense."

Rachel stood up, smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles from her clothes.

"Excuse me," she continued, walking out of the room and leaving Quinn standing alone, feeling like the biggest asshole in the world.

* * *

 

_To be continued_


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night of the benefit and the end of the journey for this story. Continued thanks to [faberryprompts](http://faberryprompts.tumblr.com) for the original idea.

"Kurt!"

Kurt froze, his finger poised to strike the y key. He looked over at Rachel on the other couch.

"Why are you making so much noise?" she demanded.

"I'm," he hesitated, "typing."

"Well it sounds like a machine gun, and do you have to breathe so loudly?"

Kurt sighed, and tried to press the keys on his laptop more softly. Rachel had been insufferable for a week, ever since Quinn had come home with the news she was taking someone else to tonight's benefit.

She kept insisting that she was fine, but it was obvious that she was hurt and confused. He tried a few times to get her to talk about what was going on with Quinn but she refused, both out of denial and because of his role in starting this debacle.

So he had endured Rachel's irrational outbursts, and the strained politeness between his roommates, as they had gotten progressively worse. He hoped for their sakes that it would reach breaking point soon so they could sort it out. And maybe for his sake too. But mostly theirs. Yes, mostly theirs.

* * *

That evening Rachel was sitting on the couch staring blankly at the television.

Kurt had escaped, gone to Duplex on a date with some guy he met at a work party, which just left Quinn, who was upstairs getting her hair and makeup done.

' _I should be getting my hair and makeup done too_ ,' Rachel thought bitterly. She wasn't sure where the negative feelings were coming from, probably because there were many meaningful industry connections she wouldn't be making tonight.

' _You idiot_ ,' she thought to herself. She knew exactly where the negative thoughts were coming from.

Would _Liam_ know that Quinn needed to take three deep breaths before walking in to the room? Would _Liam_ know when to divert a conversation, lest Quinn's death glare be fixed upon an unwitting person? And who would accompany Quinn to the bathroom and help her fix her lipstick, or adjust a fallen strand of hair?

Mostly Rachel felt like she was being replaced by someone who didn't deserve Quinn.

' _Deserve her how?_ ' she thought, but was interrupted almost immediately by Jules walking through the lounge room with her suitcase of supplies and a smile.

"Quinn will be down in a few minutes. Hope you're feeling better soon, Rach," Jules called to her as she let herself out the front door.

Rachel waved, then screwed her nose up in confusion at Jules' farewell.

' _Do I look unwell?_ ' she thought, before realizing that Quinn must have given 'illness' as the reason Rachel wasn't accompanying her this evening.

Anger bubbled up in her throat. Hot tears sprang to her eyes. She heard the click-clack of heels on the wooden floor and drew herself up off the couch.

"Sorry I'm too _sick_ to go to the benefit," was hurled at Quinn before she had even registered Rachel's presence.

Quinn sighed deeply.

"What reason should I have given Rachel? That I have to take Lucas-"

"Liam," Rachel interrupted.

"Whatever. It's not like it matters."

"It mattered enough for you to ditch me for him."

"I am doing what's best for _both of us_ , Rachel," Quinn exclaimed as she pushed past the brunette and walked towards the door.

"Oh I'm sorry Quinn, obviously I should thank you. Have fun on your date."

Quinn abandoned her calm at that, spinning back around to face Rachel.

"You know it's not a date."

Her eyes blazed into Rachel's for several seconds until she spun on her heel and walked out the door, slamming it behind her.

All the fight left Rachel's body at the sound of the slammed door. She leaned heavily against the wall of the entryway, fighting back tears.

She hated fighting with her best friend. In fact, she couldn't even remember the last time they had fought. Not like this. Not just silly arguments about who hadn't done the dishes, or how long her third favorite musical ran on Broadway, like a real fight.

The front door swung open, and there was Quinn, looking every bit as upset as Rachel felt.

Rachel brushed her hair back and stood up a little straighter.

"Aren't you going to be late?"

Quinn took a step through the door.

"I didn't want to leave things like that."

"Me neither."

"Rachel," Quinn started, taking a step closer. "I…"

"It's okay Quinn, I will accept your apology."

Quinn stopped, her face hardening.

"I wasn't going to apologize," the fire was back in those hazel eyes. "You don't understand at all, do you?"

"Understand what Quinn," Rachel closed the remaining distance between them and glared right back.

Quinn laughed humorlessly.

"You don't understand what would happen, what I'd lose,"

Rachel scoffed, disgusted at Quinn's cowardice and about to tell her so, but Quinn wasn't finished.

"You just don't understand that I can't take my best friend any more," she was full blown yelling into Rachel's face at this point, "because they've figured out that I'm in l-," Quinn froze.

"In love with me?"

Quinn's recoiled from Rachel's words, stepping back once, twice, three times.

"Is that what you were going to say?"

Rachel stepped forward once, twice, three times.

"That you're in love with me?"

Rachel had backed Quinn against the wall of their hallway, and was leaning closer.

"Stop," Quinn begged.

Rachel paused inches from Quinn's lips.

And then as quickly as she had appeared in the doorway, Quinn had pushed Rachel away and fled down the hall.

Rachel turned to see Quinn disappearing around the corner and towards the stairs that would lead her out of their building and into Liam's waiting car.

Taking a deep breath, Rachel went back into their apartment. She made it to the couch then promptly burst into tears.

* * *

Rachel hadn't moved from the couch when Quinn quietly pushed the door open at 1:48am.

Quinn was taken aback when she saw Rachel sitting, still as a statue, illuminated only by the light from the iPad that held her attention.

"Hey," she called tentatively, taking a few steps into the living room.

She was greeted by silence.

Rachel stood, crossed the floor towards Quinn and thrust the iPad into her hands.

"There. Are you happy now?" she asked, her eyes blazing into Quinn's for the first time since she arrived home.

Quinn looked down at photos of her and Liam at the benefit and tweets speculating that they were a hot new item.

She looked back up at Rachel, whose face was a mixture of anger, hurt, and overwhelming sadness.

Rachel waited for a response, waited for Quinn to fix it.

A beat passed.

Rachel shook her head and walked away, closing her bedroom door behind her.

* * *

When Rachel's alarm went off at six the next morning, she groaned as the memory of the previous night came flooding back.

She dragged herself out of bed, threw on some sweats and pulled her hair back in a loose ponytail. The last thing she wanted to do was go to rehearsals for sixteen hours, but at least it got her out of the house and away from Quinn.

She walked into the kitchen, grabbed a banana and slipped out of the house. She wanted a day of losing herself in something that had nothing to do with Quinn.

She wanted a day where thoughts of Quinn didn't invade her consciousness.

She didn't get it.

No matter how many times she tried to put it out of her mind, her mind kept going over and over their conversation the previous night.

She kept hearing Quinn's voice.

' _They've figured out I'm in l-'_ , as she was executing a kick ball change into fan kick.

' _They've figured out I'm in l-'_ , as she was supposed to be listening to the director's feedback on her solo.

' _They've figured out I'm in l-'_ , as she was trying to eat her lunch.

But she could never get Quinn to finish the sentence, even in her head.

' _They've figured out I'm in l-'_ , as she packed up her bag at the end of the day.

"They've figured out I'm in love with you," she heard from behind her.

She spun around, coming face to face with a head of blonde hair and shining hazel eyes.

Quinn took a step forward, and reached out ever so slowly for Rachel's hand. Giving her every opportunity to pull away.

But Rachel's hand instinctively reached back.

Their fingers brushed lightly.

"And last night did not make me happy."

One more step.

"It was one of the worst nights of my life."

Her hand touched Rachel's cheek.

"I wanted you beside me. I want you…"

She captured Rachel's lips.

Rachel's surprise came out in a whimper, but it less than a second before she launched herself into Quinn's arms and kissed back with fervor.

Kissing away every ounce of sadness from the last day, confusion from the last week, and tension from the last, well, decade.

When they finally pulled apart the studio had emptied completely.

They looked at each other and laughed.

"I guess I'll have some explaining to do on Tuesday."

"Just tell them Faberry is canon."

Rachel's jaw hit almost hit the floor.

"You looked it up?"

"Yeah well, I was determined to prove that they were all wrong," she smiled ruefully.

Rachel grabbed Quinn's hands and pulled her towards the exit.

"Well it wasn't the Empire State Building," Rachel giggled when Quinn slapped her arm.

"It was better," she grinned, leaning up to kiss Quinn again.

Quinn smiled that Quinn smile and they walked hand in hand down the street towards the subway station.

"Hey Rach? Now I'm happy."

* * *

**POST SCRIPT**

Kurt's phone buzzed on the table.

He stopped writing to check and saw that it was a text from Nathan, one of Rachel's costars.

He opened it, and momentarily thought he was imagining things. But no, there on his screen was a picture of Quinn and Rachel kissing.

The sound he made then was definitely not human. He jumped out of his chair and spun around, wishing he had someone to share his excitement.

And then he remembered, he did.

Bookmark: _faberryforevr ask box  
_

He had to be anonymous of course. He was always anonymous.

* * *

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: That's the end of this story/journey. Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did writing it. Eternal thanks to my best friend and beta, without whom this would not have been possible.


End file.
